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Mozart's Requiem.-Rurus DAWES.

THE tongue of the vigilant clock tolled one,
In a deep and hollow tone;

The shrouded moon looked out upon

A cold, dank region, more cheerless and dun,
By her lurid light that shone.

Mozart now rose from a restless bed,
And his heart was sick with care;

Though long had he wooingly sought to wed
Sweet Sleep, 'twas in vain, for the coy maid fled,
Though he followed her every where.

He knelt to the God of his worship then,
And breathed a fervent prayer;
'Twas balm to his soul, and he rose again
With a strengthened spirit, but started when
He marked a stranger there.

He was tall, the stranger who gazed on him,
Wrapped high in a sable shroud;

His cheek was pale, and his eye was dim,
And the melodist trembled in every limb,
The while his heart beat loud.

"Mozart, there is one whose errand I bear, Who cannot be known to thee;

He grieves for a friend, and would have thee prepare A requiem, blending a mournful air

With the sweetest melody.'

"I'll furnish the requiem then," he cried,
"When this moon has waned away!"
The stranger bowed, yet no word replied,
But fled like the shade on a mountain's side,
When the sunlight hides its ray.

Mozart grew pale when the vision fled,
And his heart beat high with fear;

He knew 'twas a messenger sent from the dead,
To warn him, that soon he must make his bed
In the dark, chill sepulchre.

He knew that the days of his life were told,
And his breast grew faint within ;

The blood through his bosom crept slowly and cold,
And his lamp of life could barely hold

The flame that was flickering.

Yet he went to his task with a cheerful zeal,
While his days and nights were one;

He spoke not, he moved not, but only to kneel
With the holy prayer-“ O God, I feel

'Tis best thy will be done!"

He gazed on his loved one, who cherished him well,
And weepingly hung o'er him :

"This music will chime with my funeral knell,
And my spirit shall float, at the passing bell,
On the notes of this requiem!"

The cold moon waned: on that cheerless day
The stranger appeared once more;
Mozart had finished his requiem lay,
But e'er the last notes had died away,
His spirit had gone before.

"I will be glad in the Lord." Psalm civ. 31

ANONYMOUS.

WHEN morning's first and hallowed ray
Breaks with its trembling light,
To chase the pearly dews away,
Bright tear-drops of the night,—

My heart, O Lord, forgets to rove,
But rises gladly free,

On wings of everlasting love,

And finds its home in THEE.

When evening's silent shades descend,

And nature sinks to rest,

Still to my Father and my Friend

My wishes are addressed.

Though tears may dim my hours of joy,
And bid my pleasures flee,

THOU reign'st where grief cannot annoy;
I will be glad in THEE.

And e'en when midnight's solemn gloom,
Above, around, is spread,
Sweet dreams of everlasting bloom
Are hovering o'er my head.

I dream of that fair land, O Lord,
Where all thy saints shall be;
I wake to lean upon thy word,
And still delight in THEE.

To the Memory of a Brother.-ANONYMOUS.

BEHOLD the glorious morn! and where art thou,
To feel its first rich breath on thy sweet brow,
Child of our hope and love?

And stand, with the spring flowers about thee waking,
And catch the early music that is breaking
From valley and fresh grove?

Were these to thee a weariness-the birds,
And the bright waters, and the earnest words
Of strong affection shed-

A mother's love, whose holy influence fell,
In its deep truth and its unchanging spell,
Like light, upon thy head?

"Young brother!" had the sound no joy for thee,
That in the dust this hour thy form should be,
And mute thy blessed voice?

O, there be yearnings for thee, gentlest one,

Gone with thy grace and thy sweet laughter's tone.

Meet were thy footsteps for the world of flowers,
And thy lost beauty for the coming hours

Of the crowned summer's reign;

And thou within the silent grave art laid,
And melody of bird and breeze is made
Henceforth to thee in vain.

And there are dancing o'er the joyous earth
Light hearted children in their fearless mirth;
And they remember not

The clasping of thy gentle hand, thou child,
The spirit beautiful and undefiled,
Now parted from their lot.

But I will speak of thee at eventide,

When, in their watchfulness, the pure stars glide
Above thy narrow bed,

And when, alas! shall come the morning's gleam
Bringing all beauty unto leaf and stream,
Yet reaching not the dead.

I will remember, and the dream shall be
Forever more a welcome thing to me,
Child of my bosom's love;

And I will deem thou'rt standing even now,
With the hair parted on thy sinless brow,
In a bright world above.

A Home everywhere.—S. GRAHAM.

HEAVE, mighty ocean, heave,

And blow, thou boisterous wind;
Onward we swiftly glide, and leave
Our home and friends behind.

Away, away we steer,

Upon the ocean's breast;

And dim the distant heights appear,

Like clouds along the west.

There is a loneliness

Upon the mighty deep;

And hurried thoughts upon us press,
As onwardly we sweep.

Our home-O, heavens-that word!
A name without a thing!
We are e'en as a lonely bird,
Whose home is on the wing.

My wife and little one

Are with me as I go;

And they are all, beneath the sun,

I have of weal or wo.

With them, upon the sea

Or land, where'er I roam, My all on earth is still with me, And I am still at home.

Heave, mighty ocean, heave,

And blow, thou boisterous wind: Where'er we go, we cannot leave Our home and friends behind.

Then come, my lovely bride,
And come, my child of wo;

Since we have nought on earth beside,
What matters where we go?

We heed not earthly powers,

We heed not wind nor weather;

For, come what will, this joy is ours-
We share it still together.

And if the storms are wild,

And we perish in the sea,
We'll clasp each other and our child:
One grave shall hold the three.

And neither shall remain

To meet, and bear alone,

The cares, the injuries, the pain,
That we, my love, have known.

And there's a sweeter joy,
Wherever we may be:

Danger nor death can e'er destroy
Our trust, O God, in thee.

Then wherefore should we grieve?

Or what have we to fear?

Though home, and friends, and life, we leave, Our God is ever near.

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